


Bower

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 16:25:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9393575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Kylo takes Phasma out into the woods.





	

After the first attempt to snatch some hours away from everyone went down _uproariously_ well, Phasma’s been delighted to the various ways in which her lover can bend, twist, and plain fold rules and situations in half. 

Frankly, she’s not sure why the man isn’t in charge of the Order, even though it’s practically treasonous to think so. She suspects it’s only from a lack of desire, rather than a lack of ability.

The Order’s relentless tread is bringing this planet under the rule of law, and the local people are slow to understand. It’s taking longer than anyone expected, but that’s not so bad. The world is temperate, and vastly forested. It’s got massive stocks of natural resources, which the Order intends to make use of. 

He’s finagled some way to get her away from the camp, and she doesn’t even care. Her arms around his waist, and she lies over his back as the speeder bike hums its way through the trees. She wishes she’d taken her helmet off already, to feel the breeze whip through her hair, but it’s safer like this.

When he gets them far enough away, he kicks the bike to a halt, and swings his legs over. A hand held up to hers, and she takes it as she steps daintily down. (Dainty. Her. She’d never felt dainty a day in her life until Kylo started courting her like she was a fine lady as well as a capable soldier. Somehow, with him, she feels like she can be _both_.)

Kylo leads her around the clearing, and she feels a little weird still being in her armour. She doesn’t feel wrong inside it when she’s working, but increasingly she wants to remove her helmet the minute she sees him (even if she is on duty). So she pulls it off with her other hand, and then laughs.

It’s quite something. He’s grabbed a large swathe of green tarpaulin, and string it from the trees, at a slight angle. There’s a groundsheet laid down, and a few cushions. A few wildflowers have been plucked and sacrificed to the small bower he’s made.

“But it’s _open_ ,” she complains, her face warring between five expressions and one question.  


“No one will come this far into the forest.”  


“ _You_ did.”  


“And if anyone _did_ , I would kill them,” Kylo concludes.  


She’s sure he wouldn’t, unless he had to. He’s perfectly capable of making anyone forget, after all. But still, this is… more open than she’s ever been before. They’ve kissed in the open (alone), but… he’s made a tiny love nest, and the implication is clear to her, at least.

For years, she hadn’t even spent more than a few hours at a stretch off a ship. Definitely never unmasked. It just didn’t happen, and here she is, in the forest, with Kylo moving to stand behind her. He takes her helmet and places it with his, off to one side. His fingers find the edges of her armour, and she offers her throat to the kisses. Snick. Snick. The welcome tightness of her plating leaving, and making her insides spill out like emotion all over his hands. Fingers on her belly and kisses that meet in the middle. She licks at his lips as he grabs her hips and pulls at the rest of her uniform.

The air smells sharp and alive, and she can hear the rustling tree-leaves instead of engine-hum. Bird-song, instead of light-hiss. She turns in his arms, pushing her fingers into his hair and dragging his mouth upwards to meet hers. He’s still stroking under her softer, black layers of clothing, and she responds by shoving a knee between his, and rocking it. 

He moans, and she shoves at him until he lets them both fall carefully onto the groundsheet. His elbows hold him up as she kisses his belly, rucking clothing up and fighting his arms until - piece by piece - he’s bare for her. She feels the sun diffusely, filtering through the leaves and onto her shoulders. So strange. Why the flowers, she wonders? Is he some bird trying to court a mate? Doesn’t he know he already has her?

They kick and wriggle out of their clothes, and she sits astride his leg. Hands on his chest for purchase, and she slides her lips across his leg, grinding down to get the teasing pressure where she needs it. His hands caress and claim, and she hefts his balls in one hand.

This is lovely, if weird. She nudges her knee higher, and decides she wants him inside of her. Because she’s not touched his cock too much, he’ll last her some time if she climbs on know. His hands help her into place, and she enjoys the slight stretch because she’s not warmed herself up all that much. Sometimes she wants to be very wet, sometimes she wants a bit of friction.

His hands - oh so large - grab her ass, guiding the rocking, begging for more. She tightens and slackens, and rocks her weight from side to side as much as to and fro. It’s good, but she needs…

His middle finger dips between, and starts to rub, then pause, then rub. Always getting her closer, then cooling down to keep her going. She smiles, loving how well he knows her body. Their eyes lock, and she thinks her affection as loudly as she can.

Oh, he’s wooed her, alright. She hopes she can make his efforts worth it for him, but as he seems to delight in her pleasure, she’s sure she can.


End file.
